Page 53 of Forbidden Sins

Ice washes through my blood as I jerk my gaze away, realizing what I’m thinking. That I’m imagining murdering a man. That’s what I’ve come to, what my father’s choices have done to me. I’m imagining murder, because my own life has become such a misery.

I don’t look up. I know if I do, I’ll see Sebastian standing guard, along with the two other bodyguards stationed at different corners of the room. I know why Sebastian is here. My father wants him to witness every possible moment with Vito, to force him to see every glance, every touch, to hear every word of conversation. As for the other two, they belong to Vito.

We never had security at family meals before. But Vito insists on having his everywhere, at every moment. He has a self-inflated sense of importance, verging on paranoia, that makes him believe that he’s always in danger of being assassinated or attacked. I want to tell him that if my father, who is one of the most powerful mafia dons outside of Sicily, has survived this long being able to eat his dinner in peace, Vito will be fine as well.

But he’s not marrying me for my opinions. He’s already made that very clear. Our marriage will silence me in even more ways than the world I live in already has. I haven’t dared to bring up the possibility of the art gallery I’ve always wanted to open, or what I might do with my paintings in the future. I haven’t even told Vito about my art history degree, or my love of painting. I don’t think I could bear to hear him denigrate it.

“The veal is excellent tonight,” Vito says, glancing at my father. “Your family cook has outdone herself.”

Antony smiles appreciatively. “I’ll be sure that the compliment is passed along. We hired her years ago, and I’ve never had occasion to complain.”

Vito chuckles. “Maybe I’ll ask for an amendment to the betrothal contract. We bring the cook along to our new home. How would you like that,bella?”

I flinch at the endearment. I know what I’m supposed to say, but my response comes out differently, all the same, as if I can’t help myself. “I think she’d rather stay here, where she’s been employed for fifteen years. We can find our own cook, I’m sure.” Something in me shrivels at the thought of sharing a home with Vito, hiring staff, all the inevitabilities that are soon to come.

I don’t have to look up to know that Vito is annoyed. “I thought you might like it,” he says, an edge to his voice as he cuts another strip of veal. “A bit of your old home in your new home. But whatever you like,bella. The household will be left to you, of course.”

Of course. I press my lips together, seething inwardly. Of course, all I can do is manage the household. Of course, my father has to marry me to some other man to ensure my inheritance, rather than letting me inherit as the sole Gallo heiress, leading the way my brother would have. Of course, I will be relegated to domestic duties and nothing else, my place in the family firmly carved out to include a home and children and wifely tasks, and nothing else.

I’m a warm body for my husband to fuck and a broodmare, and little more. Vito is making that increasingly plain with every conversation that we have.

“I was thinking,” Vito continues, popping the bite of veal into his mouth and chewing heartily. “Why not sign the contract sooner? We can move the engagement party up. Estella would have the summer to plan the wedding, and we could marry in the early fall. No one likes a cold, winter wedding, after all. We could make this all official by the end of the week, if the priest can make time to witness the signing of the papers.”

I freeze, nearly dropping my fork. “So soon. But the point of you living here?—”

Vito turns to look at me, his eyes cold as chips of ice, though he’s smiling broadly at me. “Why wait, when you’re sure? I’m sure of you,bella. I was sure from the moment I met you.” His words drip with romance, but his expression is anything but romantic. “I don’t want to wait, Estella. I want you to be my wife as soon as possible. Your father and I are in agreement. The families are restless, wanting to know who will inherit the great Gallo fortune. Why leave things in limbo? A summer engagement, and a fall wedding.”

“I like the sound of it,” my father agrees, and I know I’m lost. I can’t stop myself from looking up toward Sebastian, who is standing motionless at his place, his face utterly blank. There’s no flicker of emotion in his eyes, nothing to give away what he’s thinking, but I know he must be as miserable as I am.

Vito catches me looking at him, though. I see his gaze follow mine out of the corner of my eye, the way his jaw hardens when I quickly look back at my plate. He clears his throat, setting his silverware down as he looks at my father, and my stomach twists with sudden apprehension.

“I’ve been thinking too,” he begins, his voice even, but with an authority to match the way my father speaks. “This marriage is, of course, a merger between our families. The joining of the Bianchi and Gallo names. But I want my wife to feel as if her husband can protect her. I am the head of my household, after all, and it is my job to see to my wife’s needs.”

My stomach clenches, my fingers tightening around the fork that I’m still holding. My father is looking at Vito with slight confusion.

“Of course,” he allows. “What is it that you’re thinking, Vito?”

“That I should appoint my wife’s security. I’m sure that the man that you have had watching her has done an excellent job—although he seems to have gotten into some scrap recently that left him quite injured.”

“An off-duty incident.” Antony waves a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

Vito’s lips press together in a thin line. “So your daughter’s bodyguard is off getting into bar fights in his free time? Not the sort of man I want watching my wife, that’s for sure.”

I try to keep my breathing even, my gaze focused on my plate. I dare a glance up through my eyelashes toward Sebastian, and I see that he’s gone very still, his eyes fixed on Vito.

“I’m not sure of the details,” my father says carefully. “But you’re saying you wish to replace him, after the marriage?”

“I know you were very insistent that he go with her to our home. And I’m sure he’s served you loyally for the last three years. But yes. I wish to appoint my own security in my own household. A husband should be responsible for his wife’s protection.”

I see my father hesitate, weighing his desire to punish Sebastian against his desire to make this alliance work. I know which will win, in the end. I see Sebastian tense, and my heart pounds against my ribs. My father isn’t going to just let Sebastian go. If Sebastian doesn’t follow me to my new home with Vito, what will my father do with him? And what will Sebastian do? He won’t allow his promise to be broken so easily…

“Of course,” my father concedes. “We can discuss the details of that after the official engagement. But I can understand your position, Vito.”

Vito smiles broadly, turning toward me. “It’s settled then,bella. Our engagement will be announced by the end of the week, and a party this weekend to celebrate. You should go shopping.” He reaches into his pocket, taking out a slim leather billfold, and slides a black metal credit card out, dropping itonto the gleaming wood of the table between us. “There. Buy whatever you like. There’s no limit on the card.” He smiles indulgently at me. “There are no lengths I will not go to spoil and protect you,bella, so long as you are a good and dutiful wife.”

The back of my throat burns, but I nod tightly, forcing myself not to risk another glance at Sebastian. “Of course,” I murmur. “Thank you.”

Vito beams, glancing back at my father as he reaches out, brushing his fingers against the nape of my neck. It’s a bold, possessive gesture, and I force myself to sit very still, holding myself ramrod straight to prevent the shudder that threatens to ripple through my body. “You’ve done a good job raising her, Antony,” he says, pleasure evident in his voice. “So many women these days have forgotten their place, their natural purpose. Your daughter is well-trained.”

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